Dreams Make Reality Impossible
by SWAC4Life
Summary: You'd think that falling in love with your worst enemy was impossible. It all started with a simple dream. After some drama, some heartbreak, and some confessions, the impossible became reality. Sonny/Chad Multichapter.
1. Dreaming of You

(A/N): Hey guys! This is my first fanfiction ever! I hope it's not too bad. I'm trying for some different writing styles, and I hope that you like this first chapter!!

OKAY GUYS. I am NOT a racist person. I am simply using everything to get in CHARACTER. I'm an Asian and proud, so I doubt someone would just insult their own heritage. Geez, people, can't you tell it's part of the story?

Disclaimer: I don't own Sonny with a Chance.

* * *

**~~Dreams Make Reality Impossible~~**

**~Chapter 1: **Dreaming of You

**Sonny's POV**

"Sonny," he murmured, gently cupping his hands beneath my chin. My face was brought up, and my eyes absorbed the intensity of his electric blue ones with untold wonder. His golden blonde hair swept over his eyes, and glistened like corn silk.

I took a deep, shuddering breath and closed my eyes, resisting the urging temptation to crush my lips against his, a task which—trust me—took all of my willpower. His hands, always roaming, shifted to the small of my back, and a pair of soft, tender lips brushed against my jaw. My heart was on fire. I opened my eyes; and he was slowly pulling me closer; and his sparkling eyes were closing; and I parted my lips, anticipating the moment when our lips would touch. The space between us became smaller and smaller and—

~*~*~*~

I woke up. Actually, my eyes flew open when something soft and fuzzy was thrown with great force and hit me square in the face. It didn't hurt, but it was enough to wake me up. I opened my mouth to yawn, but got a mouthful of pink fuzz from Tawni's plush pillow instead.

"Bleh," I choked, coughing and sputtering the contents of my mouth out into my hands.

"So you're up?" Tawni asked nonchalantly, reluctantly tearing her gaze away from the mirror to cast a brief glance in my direction.

"Yeah, I guess," I slurred sleepily. "But I don't see why you had to wake me up from…" My voice trailed off. **From the most amazing dream ever. **It was all coming back, thoughts of the moments of pure bliss flooding my mind. For some reason, I was suddenly angry. "UGH! _WHY_ the _heck_ did you wake me up?!" I practically screamed at my costar.

Now I'm usually—as Tawni puts it—all rainbows and sunshine, so I wasn't surprised to see Tawni look a little taken aback and slightly frightened at my sudden, shocking outburst. But she recovers fast, and after a deep breath, a flip of her glossy blonde hair, and clothes being smoothed down, she had snatched a nail file and regained composure.

"Well," she began, filing furiously at her already perfect, pink, manicured nails, "I was _going_ to ask you what you thought of my outfit."

She gestured gracefully down at the outfit in question: a shimmering navy blue halter top, tight fitting black skinny jeans, silver metallic flats, a loose, sparkly silver belt that tilted towards one hip, and dangling silver hoop earrings. It looked very nice.

I was about to say so, but Tawni cut in before I managed to get a single, solitary word out of my mouth.

"—But obviously," she gushed, "that was stupid of me because I always look fabulous!" She laughed, emitting a sound that sounded like a high pitched peal of tinkling silver bells. "But," she muttered, annoyed and suddenly frowning, "what's _you're_ problem?"

Before I was able to register what I was saying, or fully analyze my dream, words slipped out of my mouth like warm, creamy melted chocolate. "Oh, I just woke up from the most amazing dream," I whispered, fantasy dancing across my eyes.

"Normally, I'd say I didn't care," Tawni chuckled, flipping her golden locks, "but this feels… different. What was it about?"

My stomach froze, and my palms got sweaty. **I do **_**not **_**like Chad Dylan Cooper. He's a jerk. I hate him.**

"Oh, nothing really. Really, nothing at all. I'm not kidding, seriously!" I squeaked nervously, my voice an octave higher than usual. "Actually, once you think about it, it wasn't that great." I wove my fingers over each other and crossed them behind my back, hoping that the answer would suffice.

Tawni scrutinized me carefully for a few moments, then shrugged, proceeding to the mirror and running a hot pink hairbrush through her hair.

I sighed in relief. "Well, I'd love to stay here and chat, but I… uh… have to get ready for rehearsal!" I said cheerfully, and bolted for the door.

"Uh, Sonny?" Tawni called, right before I turned the handle.

I slowly turned around. "Yes?" I whispered through gritted teeth.

"We're going to _lunch._"

"Oh."

**I am **_**such **_**an idiot sometimes.**

~*~*~*~

"Ugh, this is super disgusting," Nico groaned, miserably stirring his lumpy, pus colored mashed potatoes.

"Talk about _gross_!" Tawni complained, delicately prodding a soggy green bean with her fork. Her face was plagued with pain and disgust.

Grady, as always, was doubled over, clutching his stomach and groping at the sides of the table for support. Idiotically, he had shoveled a large spoonful of the murky chocolate pudding into his mouth. In a matter of minutes, his face was tinted a fint shad of green. "_Uh, guys_, I think I'm going to throw up!" he moaned. Nobody paid much attention to him.

Zora was cackling softly, grinning mischievously as she lifted the contents of her plate up to eye level. "It's like toxic waste from Neptune!" she snickered. "I'd love to pelt those stuck-up snobs with this stuff! The possibilities are endless!"

**Stuck-up snobs? Oh wait, yeah, obviously **_**MacKenzie Falls.**_

Zora's large toffee eyes glinted maliciously as she inhaled the horrid fumes of her lunch.

Me? Unlike my cast mates, I wasn't paying a single ounce of attention to my food, although the stench was making my eyes water a bit. I was completely lost with what I was doing, but I found my gaze resting on the cast of _MacKenzie Falls_—Zora's stuck-up snobs—and of course: Chad Dylan Cooper.

**Chad's POV**

I was _not _having a good day.

I know what you're thinking: "Chad Dylan Cooper does _not_ have bad days! That's _impossible_!"

Well, face it. Chad Dylan Cooper_ does _the impossible. No matter how crappy it is.

Like hell he does.

Even in my godly greatness and unadulterated hotness, I can screw up. And when Chad Dylan Cooper screws up, he is _not_ happy.

Not even a freaking filet mignon can make me feel better. Well, okay, I lied. Filet mignon can _always_ make a guy feel better. Screw animal rights. Screw vegetarians. This stuff was gold.

Not to mention those mentally retarded freaks from _Chuckle City_ barfing their guts out. _That_ was classic. Tico and Gravy were huddled around a seat (ten million bucks that the blonde, pudgy sponge was throwing up… again), Blondie (or Tana, or Tawnah, or whatever the _hell_ her name is) was practically crying, and that terrifying little creep had this really scary look on that pinched up face of hers.

My day was taking a turn for the better.

So I pick up my still-clean spoon (cause let's face it: who uses a _spoon_ to eat _steak_?) and grin at my reflection.

_**Perfect. **_As always. My sparkling eyes (eat it, Sonny) and windswept hair looked particularly stunning today. **You are **_**so **_**hot, Chad. Girls will be clinging to you when you exit that stage door today.**

Tilted my mirror (wait, _spoon_) to the right. Saw Brenda slapping slop on some Asian guys plate. I grinned. Hell, I didn't even know what that dude was doing here (not that I_ give_ a shit). Asians are not supposed to be in Hollywood. _Asians_ are supposed to be doing advanced algebra and calculus problems and drawing people with tiny bodies and huge eyes. _Asians_ are supposed to be worshipping _Hello Kitty_. My mom would call me racist, but hey, I'm just laying out the facts.

Tilted my spoon to the left.

**Whoa. **Are you freaking serious?

Check_ that _out. Sonny Munroe was staring at me. No, I was _not _being delusional (trust me, I checked). She was most definitely gazing at my finely chiseled features. I was _so _going over there.

"Gonna check out the Randoms. Be back in a few," I muttered to Portlyn.

She blinked a couple times. "Okay, whatever," she murmured, _clearly_ not interested.

Talk about inconsiderate. The complete opposite of me, of course.

I ran a hand through my lusciously gorgeous hair. Straightened my collar (_popped_ it, actually. The _sexy _way). Stuck my right hand in my pocket, and sauntered over to the _So Stupid!_ table, left foot first.

When I got there, they were still vomiting. **Pathetic losers. **I placed my left hand on the back of Sonny's chair, wrapped my right foot around my left leg, and grinned.

Sonny blinked rapidly, for like, ten minutes. Then took a deep, shuddering breath. "What do you want, Chad?" she said, her voice sounding a tad bit airy.

I shrugged. "_I _want to know why you were staring at me with those big googly eyes of yours," I chuckled.

"Well,_ we_ want you to leave! Back off, _Chip_!" Tico spat, ever so elegantly enunciating the 'p' so his saliva splattered all over my shirt.

Thank the Lord for sarcasm.

"Look, Nico, it's okay. And Chad," Sonny turned to glare at me, "do you _honestly_ think that I'd be staring at _you_? I was _staring_ at your _steak_," she shot back icily.

I smirked knowingly and whipped out my phone. She raised her eyebrows.

**Funny little Sonny. If only she knew.**

_I finished my steak 10 min b4 u got here munroe_

_-CDC-_

Her cell phone rang. Or, should I say, it mooed.

That's right, CDC Fans: Sonny Munroe, my potential love interest, has a mooing phone. The tabloids can _not_ hear about that.

_What? _Wait, did I just say 'potential love interest'? Screw that—_no_. Chad Dylan Cooper does not do love. Chad Dylan Cooper does not do commitment. Chad Dylan Cooper does not do romance. Yeah, that's right. Chad Dylan Cooper runs out of the room screaming when a chick flick is on TV and his sister won't let him change the channel. Why? Because Chad Dylan Cooper is a _man_.

100% man.

So eat it.

Sonny checked her inbox. And got all rigid. Like seriously, her hands sort of turned into claws and her eyes froze over. She _so_ saw my message. Like I'm stupid enough not to tell.

Why the hell did I ever think that his was a bad day? This was the best day ever. And I know that sounds really perky and unChadtastic, but it's true.

"Stupid fan," Sonny laughed uncomfortably, waving her hand as if to brush my text off. She—quick as lightening (and I'm not even kidding)—shut her phone off.

**Cute. That nervous stuff was cute.**

Ugh! Shut up, Chad, _shut up_, and let Chad Dylan Cooper take over.

"Hey, guys, we've got rehearsals for the 'America's Got No Talent' sketch in 15 minutes," Sonny piped up, pointing to her adorable tie-dye, peace sign watch. "Why don't you guys go and get ready first?"

The Randoms shrugged, picked up their slop, and dumped their black plastic trays into the nearest trash bin. They scurried off like pathetic little chipmunks, whispering amongst themselves.

That left me alone with Sonny.

…not that I care.

**Tawni's POV**

I _was _kind of happy that Sonny made us leave. I couldn't wait for rehearsal! I was wearing this _ahdorable _strapless dress that went down to a little bit above the middle of my thighs. It was this mixture of magenta and hot pink, and shimmery all over. It cinched up perfectly at my perfect waist, and had this huge, satiny bow that tied in the back. The neckline had a slight V shape, and had these tiny little diamond pearls encrusted around it. The hem was asymmetrical in the pretty kind of way, and omigod I'm rambling again, aren't I?

Sonny says I ramble too much.

Not that I care about Sonny, or anything, but even with a face as undeniably celestial and gorgeous as mine, you can get worried. Tawni Hart has a heart.

_**Catchy!**_

But Sonny, _Sonny _has been acting strange ever since I threw my pink plush pillow at her. She didn't even notice that her lip gloss wasn't on her lips anymore, and her mascara was a little flaky, and her foundation was wearing off, and her skin was looking a little blotchy around the eyes, and hair had flyaways, and—

_**TAWNI!**_** STOP rambling!**

It's weird. It's really weird. Care and concern isn't really my thing, unless it's for hair and makeup and such. And I don't really enjoy the "thinking" department either.

But I'm thinking that my pillow _might _be magical.

**Chad's POV**

Talk about _awkward_.

Sonny's creepy little friends left what seemed like hours ago. And all we've been doing is sitting (in my case, standing) there and saying nothing.

And all I can think is that my left arm is getting pretty damn tired, leaning on the back of her chair. This was _agony. _

Again, handsome, valiant Chad Dylan Cooper had to take the bold, daring move. Yes, that's right, CDC Fans: I broke the silence.

"So…" I strained, smiling through gritted teeth.

"So…" she countered, pressing her lips so tightly together that they turned white (yeah, white. It was pretty creepy)

"I got you're text," Sonny waved her phone in my face, twisting her wrist back and forth until I got disoriented.

**Okay, a bit freaky, but cute. It's really messed up: how she can do that.**

I leaned in really close. Like our cheeks were practically touching.

**He shoots…**

"I think I know why you were looking at me," I whispered in her ear, smirking.

She opened her mouth to protest, but I did the classic move and put my finger to her ruby red lips.

_Thank you, MacKenzie._ Never thought I'd say _that_.

"Don't even try," I murmured hypnotically, "you really aren't that good at acting."

And I turned around and walked off. Just like that. Because Chad Dylan Cooper leaves the ladies speechless and wanting more.

Well, Sonny Munroe was speechless. And I could tell from her face that she _so_ wanted more. And she couldn't even deny it.

…**and he SCORES!!**

**Sonny's POV**

I stood fidgeting uncomfortably in my eccentric, bold costume as I quietly watched Grady rehearse his act for the sketch. I was donning neon green leggings, white go go boots, flashy metallic lightning bolt earrings, and a tight, form-fitting black, spaghetti strap dress that fell to the middle of my thighs. My mocha brown locks were swept up messily into a poofy bun at the top of my head, and I was wearing bright red lipstick and green eye shadow.

I impatiently tapped my foot as I cast a brief glance at my watch before carefully removing it from my wrist. I wasn't due to rehearse my part for another 12 minutes. Being in my usual cheery, optimistic mood, I decided to make use of the free time that I had.

Silently, I left the set and slipped into the dressing room that I shared with Tawni. I faced myself in the mirror, and took a deep breath. Remembering what Chad had said at lunch, I determinedly fixed my gaze at my face.

It was time to start practicing.

My current acting skills apparently weren't going to cut it.

It was time to improve.

* * *

Wow, that was (I think) a really long chapter! I really, truly hope that you liked it! So, if you would be so kind and REVIEW, that would make my day! 

PEACE OUT SUCKAS!!

SWAC4Life


	2. Trapped In My Thoughts

**Hey, guys! Thanks to those of you who reviewed, favorited, or put me on story alert! That really made my day.**

…**This is a super quick update. Wow…**

**And if you didn't realize already, thoughts are in B-O-L-D!**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Sonny with a Chance.**

**I **_**do**_** own: Taylor, Jocelyn, the Asian guy from Chapter 1, and Sonny's tie-dye watch. Plus all costumes used for **_**So Random!**_** sketches.**

* * *

**~~Dreams Make Reality Impossible~~**

**~Chapter 2: **Trapped In My Thoughts~

**Chad's POV**

It's been a week.

That's right, a freaking _week_.

Sonny hasn't looked over at our table _once_. Well, she _has_, but it was with _that _look plastered over her face.

You know, the one where her adorable little nose pinches up and her eyebrows knit together and her chocolate brown eyes squint and get all small and cute looking? Yeah, that one.

Some people would call it hate. Well, to you people who think _that_: screw you, amateurs.

_I_ call it love. Because Sonny Munroe is helplessly in love with me. I mean, who _isn't_? I am completely lovable. I am totally kissable. I am 40% handsome and 60% hot. And my perfect, sandy hair adds an extra 20% bonus. That's right, ladies: you get _me_, you get 120% of completely lovable, totally kissable Chad Dylan Cooper. Plus a brain that can do the math.

So beat _that_, Zac Efron.

You know what? I bet even the _JoBros_ can't even beat that. I bet a million bucks. And that's another million bucks in my pocket. Chad Dylan Cooper is _so_ much hotter than three singing dudes who were tight pants. Because that's what they are, right?

I'd barely touched my rack of lamb. And that's messed up. Sure, I prefer steak and all, but lamb was pretty damn close. So close, they're practically touching. Theoretically, of course. So something weird was up. Because usually (to put it delicately) I eat like an effing pig. And I stared at the Chuckle City table every 10 seconds.

Every. Ten. Freaking. Seconds.

I'm no Mackenzie. I'm no Nick Jonas. I'm no Ivan Ho, Romeo, or Sterling Knight. _I _wasn't looking at Miss SonShine because of my _feelings_. _Hell_, no! It just… really bugged the hell out of me that she wasn't gazing at me. It made my stomach flip over and clench up, and my skin freeze over, and it had me considering checking in with my doctor. I might have been coming down with some sickness. Because it was _not_ feelings.

Some people just can't understand that.

People like Portlyn.

--

**Portlyn's POV**

I'm a _very_ observant person. I just_ know_ things. I can sense them.

So when I saw Chad gazing longingly at Sonny Munroe again today, I tried my best not to roll my eyes. _He_ doesn't think it's love. But his eyes glaze over, and his lips loosen up, and he doesn't do anything else but stare, stare, and _stare_.

I was already a bit annoyed that he hadn't made a move yet. I wanted to scream at him, _Just kiss her, for God's sake! _or _Ask her out, already, will you? _But I'm not that kind of person. I like to watch the drama unfold, and see things develop by themselves.

Sometimes, though, I just like to give them a little _push_.

I tapped him on the shoulder. "Chad."

**No response.**

I banged my fork on his practically untouched plate. "_Chad_."

**No **_**response.**_

I furiously snapped my fingers in front of his face. "Chad!"

_**No response**_**.**

This was the last straw. The boy was so in love that he was completely oblivious to his surroundings. Typical.

I whacked him harshly on the back, grabbed him firmly by the shoulders, and swerved him around to face me. "_CHAD_!"

He blinked, disoriented. I rolled my eyes. "_What_?" Chad scowled, obviously annoyed.

"I'm sorry I had to intrude on your _Sonny time_," I muttered, "but you should seriously just go over there and _talk to her_. It's not that hard, you know!"

His shocking blue eyes widened in surprise for a split second. Chuckling nervously, he quickly brushed his golden blonde hair out of his eyes. "Wha- Sonny? I don't like Sonny! She's a Random. I'm too cool for her," he insisted, obnoxiously popping his collar.

"Dude, you're so in denial," Taylor whispered, nudging Chad's rack of lamb with his fork. "Oh, by the way, are you going to eat that? I'm starving!"

Chad shrugged. "Take it. And I'm _not_ in denial. And _no_, I'm not in denial about being in denial. Just get off my back, will you? I _don't like_, _Sonny_."

Taylor slid the plate away and started digging in. **Men are such pigs. **In between mouthfuls, he still attempted to convince Chad. "No, like seriously, man, you're totally crushing on her. We can see it in your eyes." He pointed for dramatic effect.

"He's right," Jocelyn piped up, flipping back her dark ebony locks. Her large, electric blue eyes twinkled. "You fell for her, Chad. Just face it. So we can, like, get on with our lives."

Chad shook his head with untold force, sending his hair flying everywhere, in random directions. "Just shut up, will you? I'm not falling for Sonny."

Suddenly, I grabbed his hand. He quickly yanked it away, scowling viciously at my smiling face. "You're palms are sweaty, Chad," I sneered, hiding a smirk as I watched his face contort into embarrassment.

Chad stood up with a colossal moan and an exasperated sigh. "Fine," he huffed, "I'll go talk to her. But not because I like her."

We grinned furiously at each other. **Chad was **_**finally **_**making a move. **It was like heaven and earth clashing into one. I smirked and rested my chin in my hands.

"Oh, and Portlyn?"

"Yes?" I murmured angelically, plastering a sweet, sappy smile on my face.

Chad gingerly rubbed his shoulder and squeezed his hand, wincing dramatically in pain. "You're nails hurt."

--

**Sonny's POV**

I banged my fist on the table in frustration, so hard that the ick on my plate shifted from its rock hard state of matter. My stomach growled uncontrollably, but it wasn't enough to make me taste the stuff Brenda had served me. My mind, after all, was focused on something more important, more intriguing, and more distracting.

Chad Dylan Cooper.

Tawni had been interrogating me all week, pestering me with meaningless questions about the three-named, two-faced, bipolar jerk throb. She had somehow managed to twist into the conversation again, and we argued heatedly as Grady and Zora pelted each other with popcorn kernels and Nico watched, awestruck.

"No!" I whispered, screaming with great intensity in my mind. "My recent behavior has _nothing_ to do with that jerk!"

Tawni rolled her startling baby blue eyes and gingerly stood up to dump the remainder of her limp, rotten salad in the trash. When she returned, she continued her argument. "Do you really think that I didn't know what that 'amazing dream' was all about?" she hissed, making air quotes with her sparkly nails.

I shrugged lightly and anxiously tugged on a clump of my dark chocolate locks. I remained speechless, only raising my eyebrows in response.

Tawni exhaled and twisted the chain of her necklace around her index finger as she spoke. "You talk in your sleep, Sonny. I _know_ that dream was about Chad. You can say you hate him, but deep down inside—_really _deep down inside—you_ like_ him," she said, gently poking my chest.

I shrunk back. It was time for the acting skills to kick in. "Tawni, those morning lattes have really been getting to your head," I replied smoothly, "Too much caffeine, really. It's horrible for your system. And I don't like Chad," I added, my voice shooting up an extra octave.

**Shoot. That high, squeaky voice again.**

My blonde companion raised a perfectly plucked eyebrow. She parted her glossy lips to retort, but a mischievous, gargantuan grin spread across her face and played on her lips instead.

"Speak of the devil," she murmured, pointing her manicured finger behind me.

I whirled around and moaned softly under my breath. Chad Dylan Cooper was strolling over to our table again, just like he had a week ago. My heart was doing little somersaults in my chest, and my stomach twisted and squeezed my insides, which—scientifically speaking—isn't even possible.

"…and the devil shall appear," I finished for Tawni, secretly hoping that I wouldn't lose control and faint from the heat of my blushing face.

--

**Chad's POV**

Oh, sweet victory. Sweet, heavenly bliss.

Glory. Hallelujah. All that jazz.

Back to reality.

I was heading towards the Chuckle City table, when I saw Blondie point directly at me. Saw her overly shiny lips move. Saw Sonny turn around. Saw her shiny hair whirl around like you see on TV. Saw her deep chocolate eyes get wide. Saw her blush.

**Glory. Victory. CDC.**

I smirked and sat down next to her, nodding to Blondie as a greeting. "Sonny."

She glared at me. "Chad."

"Grady!" the other Blondie perked up, sticking his big head between us.

**Good god, what an idiot.**

I shook off the thought. Well, you know, mentally shook off. Not physically, or else I'd probably look like a spastic starfish or some constipated baby. Which isn't good.

Insert sigh here. "Sonny, it's been bugging…_ certain people_… that you haven't looked at me in the past week without contorting your face into some messed up version of the corpse bride."

Her face lit up. Damn, what's up with that? I just basically insulted her, and she's all sunshine and happiness. "People like… _you_?" she teased, smirking uncontrollably.

I backed away, raising my hands in front of my face. "Hell, no," I said. "Portlyn, actually. And Jocelyn, and Taylor, and Chastity, and Skyler, and…" I counted off with my fingers. Wiggling them in front of her face, I snickered, "So that makes eight people, Munroe."

She scowled. "Whatever, Cooper. You're just too much of a self-centered, conceited jerk to admit that you care."

_**Ouch.**_

"Ouch, that hurt, Munroe," I exclaimed with fake sincerity, dramatically placing a hand to my heart. My brain was sparking up. Maybe I was mad, or something. It seared, excruciating pain, like shocking electricity.

Sonny rolled her eyes. "Chad, you've got two personalities. One's hard, narcissistic, conceited, and completely dislikable." Then her eyes softened up a bit, kind of like when chocolate melts, and flows down the sides of the crystal fountain I have in my dressing room.

**Not the point.**

"But the other side is… different," she murmured softly. I had to strain to hear her. "And I'm just waiting for that side to show up again."

And then she left.

Just like that.

Just ignore the fact that something in my chest is moaning in disappointment.

**Whatever.**

I had one question. I peered at Blondie, who was eyeing my strangely. Slowly, I asked, "What does narcissistic mean?"

--

**Tawni's POV**

Okay, so my practically flawless matchmaking scheme had a couple of flaws. It was kind of disappointing. It's really hard to admit, that this bouncing ball of _beautiful_, stunning sunshine that is Tawni Hart can have flaws.

It was a let down. But I had to stay cheerful, right？

Besides, Chad asked me a question. I have to be the compassionate person that I am, and answer.

"Narcissism is inordinate fascination with oneself; excessive self love; vanity," I droned in monotone, totally and completely bored. Once Sonny was gone, I couldn't watch them argue, which was _always_ fun.

Chad raised his eyebrows suspiciously. "And you know that… how?" he asked.

I rose from my seat. This was literally too boring. "She talks about you a lot," I said simply, "and it's hard to follow sometimes." I waved my pretty hand, flipped my pretty hair, and walked off, the pretty way.

I snuck a glance behind me and saw Chad Dylan Cooper still sitting there, dazed, contemplating what I had just said, with a sweet, silly smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

* * *

**So that's it, guys! I wasn't all that pleased with this chapter. I don't know… I spent all day working on it (I have a lot of free time)**

**Anyways, if you guys have any ideas with what could happen in this story, please REVIEW and give me ideas, and I'd love you to pieces!**

**PEACE OUT SUCKAZ!**

**SWAC4Life**


	3. Seeing It For The First Time

**I'd like to thank everyone for reviewing, favoriting, and subscribing!**

**Okay, now enjoy this next chapter! **I don't like this chapter. Not my best work. Too much dialogue, and not enough description. I couldn't get into the characters enough. Sorry if it's a little OOC.

Oh, an extra note: Every character/race I insult in this fanfic is part of the character I'm portraying. None of the things I say are actually true. So don't kill me :P

**Disclaimer: SWAC4Life doesn't own Sonny with a Chance. She's too good for a show like that... or is it the other way around? Ugh, I'm confused now :P**

* * *

**~~Dreams Make Reality Impossible~~**

**~Chapter 3: **Seeing It For The First Time

**Sonny's POV**

I walked down the studio lot, shivering from the cold November winds. I was donned in a crimson turtleneck shirt, navy blue skinny jeans, a poncho my mom made for me, and a pair of soft fuzzy brown boots. I pulled my beige, knitted poncho closer to my body, trying to keep myself warm.

Today, my mom was picking me up. She was here in L.A. to visit. Normally, I'd have a friend bring me home, or take a cab, but all my cast mates were busy and I didn't have much money on me. With a sigh, I sat down on the curb and hugged myself tightly, squeezing my eyes shut.

The minutes ticked by, and I was growing restless. I was freezing, miserable, and numb all over. My cheeks were whipped harshly by the howling wind, and my hands were red and raw. Checking my watch, I realized that my mom was fifteen minutes late. Could the day get any worse?

As if on cue, my phone's ring tone played. It was music to my ears, and cheered me up a bit. The caller ID told me that it was my mom, Connie Munroe, calling me. Relieved, I picked up.

"Hello?" I whispered.

"_Hello, Sonny dear, I'm really sorry, but I can't pick you up today," _my mom's voice apologized on the other line. I felt my heart sink to my stomach.

"Mom, why?" I whined. "I was really counting on it."

"_I'm sorry, but I have a very important conference that I can't miss. It was last minute, I'm sorry. Please don't kill me!"_

"Mom, you're in L.A.! How are you supposed to attend a conference here?" I countered.

"_It's via email, honey. And I chose to come to Los Angeles because my company had a meeting scheduled for next week here."_

"Oh my gosh, Mom, you're such a workaholic! How am I supposed to get to my apartment now?" I literally screamed into my phone.

"_Get one of your friends to drive you there. Aren't all of your cast mates living in the same building? Or take a cab. It's pretty simple."_

"Look, I don't want to talk right now. My friends are busy and I don't have enough money in my wallet. I guess it's karma, but I have no idea what I did in the first place."

"_Look, I'll see what I can do, and I'll pick you up if I can, okay?" _My mom sounded sincerely apologetic, so I decided to cut her some slack.

"Thanks, Mom. I'll find a way if your control freak boss doesn't let you leave," I chuckled. "Bye."

I hung up, ignoring my mom's retorting words on the other line. _Mr. Davis is not a control frea-_

"Need some help, Munroe?" a voice asked. I looked up into the dazzling blue eyes of Chad Dylan Cooper. He had changed out of his usual Mackenzie Falls uniform, and was casually wearing jeans, Nike sneakers, a plain white T-shirt, and his black leather jacket. I had to admit, he looked adorable.

"Yes," I admitted, "I do, but it's not like you would help me. Why do you care anyways?"

The celestial, godly figure standing before me smirked. "I don't know, let's give it a shot," he teased.

I sighed in defeat. "Fine. My mom was supposed to pick me up today, but she's busy and I have no way to get home to my apartment. I'm freezing, cold, and depressed. And I'm never depressed," I added softly.

Chad stared at me. "Look," he said finally, after what seemed like hours of silence, "do you want a ride or something?"

I gasped in astonishment. "Really?"

He shrugged.

My eyes narrowed instinctively. "And you don't want something out of it or anything? It's all just you being nice to me?"

His sparkling, cerulean blue eyes twinkled, and his mouth twisted into his adorable smirk. "How about a kiss then?"

"WHAT?" I screamed, my heart pounding fiercely in my chest. I felt like time had frozen, and the only human beings on the planet were me and Chad. I gulped nervously and fiddled my thumbs out of anxiety. For some reason, I was facing something that resembled excitement, like I _wanted_ to kiss him. My heart was soaring in my chest, in… happiness?

Chad took a diminutive step back. "Look, I was kidding," he chuckled, and I felt my stomach plunge down in disappointment. "I didn't know you'd get so worked up about it. Maybe you _are_ falling for me." He raised his eyebrows jokingly.

**Maybe I am.**

--

**Chad's POV**

The drive was quiet. It's hard to describe. It wasn't really like there wasn't any sound. The radio was blasting in our ears the whole time.

I guess you could say that it's like in Kindergarten. When you have that evil teacher who's always yelling at the kids. And the kids are afraid to talk. But the teacher reads them those pathetic picture book stories, and that's the only sound. And the teacher (let's just _hypothetically say_ that her name was Mrs. McGraw, which has absolutely NO meaning to me) drags her huge, ugly feet across the carpeted floors. And it feels quiet. But there's noise, too. There's Mrs. McGraw's whiny, raspy voice contaminating the brains of our young population.

I had a Kindergarten teacher named Mrs. McGraw.

The sounds from the radio slightly resembled the sounds I used to hear from Mrs. McGraw. I let Sonny choose the station (why: I don't know) and soon I was listening to the Jonas Brothers' whiny, obnoxious voices pounding in my ears. It was pure, maniacal torture.

Okay, Nick Jonas, you sound like a girl. Joe, your looks are nothing compared to mine. And Kevin, your hair is like a floppy sponge of nothing. Plus I bet all three of you are closeted gays, because straights do _not _wear skinny jeans.

Yeah, that's right. I just called the Jonas Brothers gay.

Little Miss SonShine obviously didn't acknowledge our dear Jonas' homosexuality. She was singing along with the radio. Full force. Her voice was powerful, and she could really belt some of those notes. Damn, she was talented! Though, once I think about it, I should have probably been more concerned with the fact that Nick Jonas could sing in Sonny's range.

Even though she was singing, it was still awkward as hell in that car.

"You have a nice voice," I whispered, half hoping she wouldn't hear.

She peered at me through her thick eyelashes. "What's that, Chad?"

"I like your voice," I mumbled, staring at the road.

She cupped her hand to her ear. "I'm sorry, what?"

"_I LIKE YOUR VOICE!_"

She smirked, and leaned back in her seat. God, that was embarrassing. I felt my face get as hot as those campfires that people roast marshmallows on. With sticks. Talk about unsanitary. But I wasn't blushing. I'd never blushed before, even when I actually kind of liked a girl.

"You're blushing," Sonny grinned, sticking her head in front of my face.

Crap. Well, so much for _that_.

"I'm watching the road," I whined, craning my neck above her beautiful, glossy locks. "Do you _want_ us to crash and die?"

"I want _you_ to," Sonny muttered unconvincingly, grinning widely at me. I returned her enthusiasm with a small smile. Even though what she said wasn't a compliment.

Definitely NOT a compliment.

"Thanks for the compliment," I said sarcastically, grinning from ear to ear, a phrase which (even now) I didn't understand.

"You're welcome," she replied, smiling coyly, and whipped out her phone. She dialed some digits, and pressed that cow print cased _thing_ to her ear.

Cow. Print. Case.

Pathetic.

"Mom?" Sonny was calling her obnoxious, overprotective, workaholic mother? Instead of talking to me? Typical.

"Don't worry, enjoy your conference. I got someone to bring me home. Love you, too, Mom. Bye."

We arrived at her apartment building. I parked my car next to it, and scrutinized her living conditions. "_This_ dump? _This_ is where you live? God, Munroe, can't you do better than this?"

She frowned slightly. Her ruby red lips twisted up and her doe like eyes narrowed. "All my friends live here," she said, more to herself than to me. "And I have to save up some of my salaries for college."

I made a face. "College?" I grimaced, shuddering. "Like Yale, and Harvard, and those places for nerds?"

Sonny sighed. "I was thinking more of NYU or UCLA, but yeah, _those_ places." She opened the car door and flounced outside. "Thanks for driving me here, Chad," she said cheerily, grinning her usual toothy grin. "Bye."

She bounced away, and I found myself staring at her. Even after she disappeared through the doors of the building. I smiled to myself and started the engine.

**You don't usually feel this way, **I thought to myself. **Maybe Portlyn's right. Maybe you **_**are**_** falling for that bouncy, sunny girl from Wisconsin.**

I grinned to myself, listening to the voices of the Jonas Brothers once again. I hadn't even bothered to change the station. Once I thought about it, Paranoid wasn't such a bad song after all.

**Maybe I am.**

--

**Sonny's POV**

My mom had cooked dinner for the night, and even though I was excited about eating something other than Chinese takeout, fast food, or pizza, my appetite had vanished. I blandly twirled my spaghetti around and around my fork, occasionally taking a tiny nibble from it.

My mom was worried. "Sonny, are you alright? You love spaghetti, but you're not eating, and today you're looking kind of glum. Does it taste bad?"

"No, Mom," I managed, smiling broadly, "it's great, but I'm just not that hungry today. May I be excused?"

She nodded emotionlessly. "Sure. Why don't you go to sleep earlier? You've had a rough day."

~*~*~*~

I lay peacefully in bed at night, unable to fall asleep. My mind was swarming with thoughts about Chad. His thick, golden honey hair, his stunning blue eyes, and his soft, kissable lips.

**OH MY GOSH DID I JUST THINK THAT!?**

I would never kiss Chad. I would never ever kiss those dry, pasty, cracked lips that had probably touched the slimy mouths of millions of other, stuck-up girls. I would never date that overly dramatic, bipolar jerkthrob. His eyes, to me, were blank and unemotional. No sparkle. No nothing. Zip, zero, nada. He acted like a girl. He was the male version of Barbie. Girlier than most of my friends. He was self-centered, conceited, and vain. I hated him. I absolutely dreaded seeing him every day. I loathed him with every ounce of my being. I despised him.

**I was in denial.**

I sighed. I was just lying to myself, trying to cover up the truth that I knew all along. Selena was right. Tawni was right.** Stupid relationship wizards.**

I liked Chad Dylan Cooper. And there was a diminutive chance that I loved him. That four letter word. That simple, four letter word that meant enough to make up for ten million. It was all far too confusing.

And it was embarrassing: the fact that I had known somebody for so long, and not come to realize the passion and lust that I had felt for them all along.

**Ew, that sounds so horribly disgusting. Especially when I'm talking about Chad Dylan Cooper, who I think is disgusting, arrogant, and pathetic. Oh, and stupid.**

And with this slightly discomforting, yet slightly relaxing thought still lurking in my mind, I slowly drifted off into a deep and peaceful sleep.

And I was secretly hoping that it would be about Chad again.

* * *

**Please review guys, thanks :)**

**PEACE OUT SUCKAS!!**

**SWAC4Life**


	4. Discussion Over a Starbucks Espresso

(A/N): After suffering from a serious case of Writer'sBlock-itis (which I was in the hospital for) and being held back from some Internet restrictions, I have finally updated the fourth installment of DMRI! (Which I will now be calling this story, as the original name takes too much effort to type :D

Seriously though, guys, I was almost about to give up on this story. Sad face :( But I continued, for some reason. I guess I was touched by an angel.

For those who haven't seen it yet, please check out the trailer to my other story, My Heart Will Go On! I'm so excited for this story, and I'm putting a lot of time and effort into it: dragging the plotline out to a ridiculously slow pace :) Just visit my profile and click on the link. And now, without further ado, Discussion Over a Starbucks Espresso! Enjoy :)

* * *

**~~Dreams Make Reality Impossible~~**

**~Chapter 4- **Discussion Over a Starbucks Espresso

**Chad's POV**

"No, Port, I don't like her! How many times do I have to tell you?" I whined. Loudly, for that matter. I instinctively ran my fingers through my lush field of golden hair. Hey, you can't exactly blame me for being annoyed, though. I'd pretty much been stalked 24/7 by every single freaking member of my cast for the past couple days. The past _eight_ days, if we want to get specific. Pure torture. Just shoot me now.

"Fine, love then!" Portlyn countered, twirling her seriously tangled hair around her look-at-me-I-really-need-a-manicure fingers, stirring her untouched latte as she did so. We were sitting in the dark corner of a tiny Starbucks in the middle of nowhere. Portlyn had called me the night before, and asked me to meet her there. I instantly regretted accepting her offer. I did _not_ want to push back an hour of my beauty sleep to talk about _feelings _that I didn't even feel. The place where we sat was secluded, and far from the studio and the main parts of Hollywood. We had tried to stay hidden to avoid the paparazzi. Who _knows_ what inconsiderate rumors and gossip that could conjure with a simple picture?

"Love, like, same thing." I rolled my eyes for effect and sipped my espresso.

Okay, big mistake. Portlyn gasped in her oh-so-dramatic way, thrust out her arms, and started… scratching me. I mean, what's up with that? She like literally leapt across the table and began attacking my beautiful, flawless face. And seriously, her nails are like claws. They hurt.

"They are so not!" she cried, totally ignoring the stares she was getting from random people in the room. "Like is an innocent crush. It's something that usually is gone in, at the most, two years. More like just an infatuation. Love is deeper, and only happens a few times in one lifetime. It's strangely magical. Love," she said, lowering her voice to a deadly whisper and leaning closer to me, "is what you have with Sonny."

I slapped her. Okay, I _know_ that guys aren't supposed to slap girls, but that's just sexist. _It's sexist, okay? _I mean, seriously, girls can stick up for themselves, and feminists across the globe are probably mentally agreeing with me at this very moment. Because, look, if we don't treat them with respect, and convince them that they are strong, will they ever respect us and each other? What about the whole movement on women's rights? Have they really come all this way just to be neglected?

**Oh, god, I sound like such a wuss.**

My thoughts were interrupted by the soft wailing and moaning of Portlyn. I'd made a _big _impact on her cheek. You could see my finger marks sort of _ornamenting_ it. It was a light shade of red (you would probably call it pink), and it looked like my slap hurt. So, being the gentleman that I am, I felt bad. But only for a second, because I remembered what we'd been talking about, and why I was there in the first place.

"Ow," she moaned, gingerly touching her face.

"Just shut the hell up, Portlyn," I rasped defeatedly, "and I won't do that again. My rep can't stand something like that leaking out."

The she-idiot put a finger to her chin and pondered, completely forgetting the fact that I had just slapped her with all my strength.

Suddenly, Portlyn's face got all perky and lit up, kind of like she finally realized something. She gets that expression a lot. Then she jabbed her index finger into my chest.

**Ouch.**

"So you admit that you _do_ like her!" Her triumphant smile was evident on her face.

**Oh crap. Oh freaking shit.**

"Psh, no! Why would you think that? Psh… yeah you_ are_ stupid." I took a colossal gulp of my coffee to avoid talking. I instantly regretted it. My throat felt like it was (literally) on fire.

She raised her eyebrows. "_Sure_," she drawled sarcastically.

**Oh **_**hell**_** to the no. Sarcasm is **_**my**_** thing.**

"Yes, Portlyn, you know what? You're right. I am completely and unrequitedly in love with Sonny Munroe. And today, I'm just going to barge into her set and kiss her! Okay, _are you kidding me_?" I slammed my hand on the table in aggravation.

Portlyn squinted her eyes in confusion and softly murmured, "Well, _okay_, you didn't have to make such a big _deal_ out of it."

I was in hysteria. Chad Dylan Cooper does _not_ lose his cool. But, sadly, I _was_ losing it. "Oh, no, that's _not _okay, and you know why? Because _you_ guys have been bothering _so_ much and pretty much _stalking _me, and that does _not_ result in happy Chad. _No, it does not_. And all you guys… _interrogating me_ has seriously caused a decline in my beauty sleep and overall beauty. So, _no_, I think that _you_ should be the one not making such a big deal out of this, and you know why? Because Chad Dylan Cooper is _much_ more perfect than Portlyn Murray, and I _always_ do everything _perfectly_," I spat viciously, clenching my fists.

She rolled her eyes and flipped her hair in my face. And strolled away. Just strolled out the door, and left me to contemplate my _very complex_ thoughts.

Normally I'd be relieved about that, but this time, my mind was caught on something else. Why did I feel so… _rejuvenated _when I told Portlyn I loved Sonny? Why did that thing in my chest pound harder and quicker? Why did the back of my neck suddenly get warm?

Why did I feel like I was telling the truth?

Even when I thought I was lying, I felt like what I had said was true. **I **_**was**_** lying, wasn't I?**

I frowned, deep in thought, and I heard a camera go off not far from where I was sitting. I whirled around and saw a tiny, unattractive man in a trench coat eyeing me nervously, holding a silver digital camera in his trembling hands.

"Shit, paparazzi," I mumbled, glaring at him, before chugging down the rest of my now-cold coffee and walking out the door, a suspicious feeling lurking in my chest.

~*~*~*~

Two days after the Starbucks incident, as I like to call it, as I was rereading my lines for the corny scene we were about to shoot, I heard a scream from the set.

"What the _HELL_?!"

**What the **_**HELL**_** was **_**that**_**? **"Looks like your time is done for now," I said to Veronica, my hair and makeup coordinator, who had been touching my face up with a little foundation. She simply shrugged, and walked off, grateful for the break.

Oh, by the way, just so we're clear, I only wear makeup _on set_. And _that_ is only because the lighting doesn't "compliment my facial features". Which, honestly, is the _lighting manager's_ fault and not mine. And because of the freaking stupid lighting manager, I have to wear makeup. I'm not a homo.

I found Portlyn and Marta and all the rest of the Mackenzie Falls girls huddled around each other in a tight circle, gaping, horror struck, at a copy of the latest Tween Weekly. All of their eyes were as round as those pink golf balls that Sharpay used in High School Musical 2. Chastity saw me walking towards them and rushed over in my direction, thrusting the magazine into my open hands.

"Oh, dear God, Chad, can you believe the people that would do this?" she cried. Confused, I looked at the magazine.

**Oh no. Oh crap. Oh **_**God**_**!**

On the cover, blown up to the world, were pictures of me and Portlyn at Starbucks from the other day. It was obvious that our "reclusive" plan didn't exactly work. They had _everything_ on that magazine. They had us sitting there stirring our beverages, and Portlyn scratching the life out of me (which they'd taken from an angle to make it look like she was _caressing_ me). They had a picture of her leaning closer to me (whispering about how much I loved Sonny… **which I **_**don't**_** by the way**), me slapping her (which looked pretty dramatic, kind of like an episode of Mackenzie Falls), me hyperventilating over the issue, and her walking out the door with an annoyed plastered on her face. And they even put up that picture of me alone at the table, with my godly lips turned down in a frown.

Then I read the headline, and my whole world came crashing down.

_**Chad Dylan Cooper-DUMPED?**_

_Did Portlyn Murray secretly date costar CDC, then end it?_

**Oh, how I hate life.**

I heard Portlyn's voice behind me, full of sympathy and understanding, which I would never have thought possible for someone like her. "So how're you going to explain to Sonny?"

I shook my head sadly, not even bothering to pummel her in the stomach. "I don't know," I admitted. "I really don't know.

--

**Sonny's POV**

I was slouched on the couch in my dressing room that Tawni was forced to share with me, licking a mini strawberry Tootsie Pop, when I heard Tawni's scream from her vanity.

"Oh my gosh, what's wrong?" I cried, yanking the lollipop from my mouth and whirling around to face her with concern and curiosity etched across my face. She was clutching the week's copy of Tween Weekly to her heart, looking like she was about to faint. Her face was plagued dramatically with pain.

**Oh, it's just another big gossip controversy, **I thought uninterestedly.I guess I got worked up about nothing.

"Sonny!" Tawni screamed, suddenly waking up from her dazed state and madly waving the magazine around in the air. "This. Is. HORRIBLE!" She pointed a shiny, periwinkle nail at the cover. It was plastered with an array of pictures that I couldn't make out from the distance between us. They were jumbled up artistically at different angles inside a massive, hot pink heart.

"Um, Tawni?" I ventured timidly, sticking the Tootsie Pop back in my mouth and grabbing my favorite throw pillow, which I buried my face in. "I honestly doubt it's that bad."

She stared furiously at me like I was a freak, which, in _her_ mind, I was. "It is to 'that bad'," she countered, scrunching up her face. She made air quotes with her free hand and viciously stuck the magazine in front of my face. The front cover had pictures of Chad and Portlyn Murray, the little she-devil, on a _date. _At some Starbucks that I'd never went to. They even had Chad slapping her, and him alone, with a tiny frown pulling on his lips.

"Chad was going out with _Portlyn_?" I whispered in shock, reading the headline. This wasn't happening. This was _not_ happening. My heart plummeted into my stomach. I felt like I was going to throw up.

Tawni nodded. "And the best part is," she perked up suddenly, "is that she dumped him! Isn't that horrendously awesome?"

I bleakly agreed, grimacing, and rested my chin in my hands. Why did I feel so miserable at the fact that Chad had been dating someone? There was an uneasy feeling lingering in my stomach. I had a feeling that I liked Chad. As much as I wanted to deny it, I did.

"I think that I like Chad," I whispered to myself, bracing myself from the explosion that was bound to ensue if Tawni had overheard me.

Luckily, she didn't.

Unfortunately, I had a feeling that what I had said was the truth. It nagged me and pounded my ears, and after a mere five seconds, I felt the need to confide in someone.

"Tawni, I have something to confess," I began, taking a deep breath. When she didn't respond, I tentatively continued. "You see, I think I might have a sort of… you know… well, um… a crush… on… uh, Chad." I exhaled, letting out all my tension.

She slowly turned to face me, her expression stone cold and menacing. **Oh, gosh. She's going to kill me. **"No. Way. No freaking way!" she screamed, her left eyebrow twitching awkwardly.

And then she smiled. Grinned, in fact. But her eyebrow kept twitching.

* * *

(Another A/N): Hope you liked that guys! Please review, and also please take my Poll on my profile (it has to do with this story, trust me) And now, until next time.....

PEACE OUT SUCKAS!!

SWAC4Life


End file.
